Pearls of Light
by bradhadair12
Summary: The King of Red Lions never showed up, and a certain gang leader gets the shock of his life. Wind Waker. Death fic.


Pearls of Light

There aren't enough Wind Waker fics on this site, and nowhere near enough death fics, so I thought I'd kill two birds with one stone, especially seeing as you can't actually drown in the game. So, for your sick and twisted enjoyment, here you go. EDIT: Thanks to SapphireDrakon and Harmy52, I went over it and fixed the typos. If there are still any left tell me about them in a review. And DO NOT favourite this story without reviewing. Seriously, guys, it's not that hard!

Edit: you **can** actually drown in the game. I found this out the hard way the other day...

I don't own The Legend of Zelda, savvy? On with the story!

* * *

He didn't know how long he'd been floating there for.

Every second stretched on into infinity, slipping away from his grasp and mocking him as it crept further and further away, until he felt like he'd been there forever. Hours; days; weeks; he just didn't know, and he didn't care. Not anymore.

His plan to rescue his sister had failed. He'd been within touching distance of her soft, small hands and the opportunity had been torn from him. He'd been attacked by a monstrous bird, whose plumage filled the sky and shimmered like dark flames, and now he was here. Out in the middle of the ocean.

He knew he had moved: he had swum when he had the energy. He knew he needed to get to land before he lost all his energy or caught hypothermia or was attacked by any of the thousands of monsters that prowled the prairies of the endless seas. He had no idea where he was going, but he had to do something. He couldn't be completely helpless.

It was his duty as an older brother to protect Aryll with everything he had to give, yet as she was kidnapped, her screams growing more and more distant by the second, he hung there helplessly from the grip of a pirate and watched her. The only thing he had left of her presence was the telescope she'd given him. It was probably ruined by the salt water now; the painted dissolved and chipped; the lens warped beyond repair.

And then there was his grandmother. She'd lost both her grandchildren in a matter of hours, sitting alone at home in her slight senility and depression, sipping soup and looking at photos of days of innocence. Lumps kept rising in his throat at the thought of his grandma waiting forever for her grandchildren to come home. She would sit in the same chair, looking out of the same window at the same sky until her bones became as dust and were blown away by the wind.

Everything had gone wrong in such a short space of time. He'd once wished that he could've been taken by the bird instead of Aryll, but if **this** was what was waiting for him then he was glad she was in a place that offered shelter, food and water, warmth and company. All that was here was a never ending ocean and sky which eventually blurred together until he didn't know whether he was floating or flying.

He'd bled crimson rubies into the water at first, his wounds roaring in agony at the touch of the salt water. He was worried that it would attract monsters, but now he ached for the release. He would rather go down fighting than fading away slowly in a featureless world. He barely knew how to use his sword, and had even dropped it earlier, but he felt a pang of sorrow at the thought of it collecting rust on the bottom of the ocean for the rest of time.

He'd been floating on the surface of the water for eons; his face fully emerged so he could breathe. Each breath he took stung painfully – his lungs frozen over with the cold. His limbs were numb and his bones shivered, and his muscles felt like they were made of ice. It was all he could do to keep paddling to keep himself above the glacial water.

He still had Aryll to save. He prayed that they would release her once they realised she wasn't Tetra, and she could go home so grandma had someone to wait forever with. He prayed to the gods so hard, and yet offered none for himself. **He** didn't matter. She was younger, and more innocent, and she wouldn't survive the agony of existence if she was held captive for the rest of her life. He wanted her to be safe more than he wanted himself to be safe.

Maybe that was what had led him out here in the first place. He'd gone off without a thought for his own safety, yet again, and thrown himself into the belly of the beast without considering the dangers. He was known for his courage back on Outset Island, but it would do him nothing here. His will to survive had fled long ago.

He'd hoped for a while that a lone ship would pass him by and pick him up, but all thoughts of rescue had been eroded by hours spent aimlessly floating in a sea of tears. He didn't expect Tetra to come for him even from the start – he was struck by her. She was bold and brass and confident and everything he wasn't. She would survive out here with her dark skin and pure will to live, and he wouldn't, no matter how he struggled against the waves. He allowed himself to imagine Tetra looking for him. Would she search the waters forever, looking for the boy who lay at the bottom of the ocean? Would she give up and send a short prayer to the gods that his soul would rest in peace? Would she even bother, and instead just forget the boy that had barely been in her life for a week?

He was too tired now. Breathing was so hard it was barely worth the effort. He knew his skin would be pale and blue from the cold and the lack of oxygen. He almost** expected** to die with all his inexperience, but death was a concept that never really occurred to young boys like him barely into puberty. He was supposed to get a job, marry a woman or a man – whichever he decided he liked better – and live to a ripe old age to tell his grandchildren if he had any, also depending on whether Aryll decided to marry a man or a woman, about that time he nearly drowned, but was saved by a miracle.

There was so much about himself that he didn't know. Grandma promised to tell him what he happened to his parents when he was older, but older would never come around. He'd be young forever, frozen in time, dreams buried with his body. He wondered if he'd ever be found. He hoped he was and was given a proper funeral. He hoped Aryll and grandma knew so they wouldn't spend their lives waiting for the arrival of a dead man.

He shut his eyes against the incriminating glare of the sun, feeling waves beginning to push him down. He didn't struggle against them anymore. He felt like he was flying among the clouds, perhaps with those odd postmen, tasting the cotton candy of the clouds and feeling the subtle warmth of the moon against his bare bones. He opened his eyes for one more look at the world, the bubbles rising like pearls of light.

And as he sunk he gave a small smile to the abyss.

It was **hot.** Too hot to even be inside, where the Killer Bees would spend most of their time planning out pranks or fantasising about discovering treasure or hidden coves that would etch their names into history forever. Instead they stood, sweating in their shorts and shirts, basking in the sun's rays, and arguing over what to do.

"Boy, it sure is hot today," Jun-Roberto stated.

"Well, duh!" Jin spat back, punching the other boy on the shoulder.

"Man, there just isn't anything to do," Ivan noted, wiping his brow. "We can't even tease Mrs. Marie!"

The boys slouched in silence against the cool stone of the building, casting shadows over their eyes with their hands. It was days like this that was the very bane of their existence. Jan suddenly gasped, snapping his fingers together.

"I just had a thought! When I went home yesterday something washed up on the shore. Maybe we could go and see what it is."

"I bet its treasure!"

"No way, it's a dead animal to poke!"

"Guys, we're not gonna find out by standing around like a group of lemons. Let's go check it out."

Personally, Ivan thought it was a stupid idea to poke around on the beach for something that was probably a piece of driftwood, but he wasn't going to complain. They had nothing better to do. Besides, it took his mind off the telling-off he received yesterday afternoon for stealing Mrs. Marie's joy pendants again. Such an obsession was unhealthy, and in his opinion he was doing her a favour. His parents didn't see it that way for some reason.

They sped off along the grass, eager to find something to break through the mundane patterns of that day. Grass slowly became sand as the pastures made way for soft beach. Sand ran into the boys' boots, invading every possible place it could find and chafing against their skin. They all briefly stopped to discard their shoes, tossing them carelessly to the side in their haste.

To their surprise, they found someone lying on the beach. He was wearing something green, though he was mostly covered by wet sand, the tides lapping at his feet. At least, Ivan presumed it was a boy. He wasn't curvy enough to be a girl, though his hair was long enough to be. He was just lying there, sunbathing, not causing anyone any trouble.

But more importantly, he was on **their** beach.

Ivan frowned at the impudence of the stranger, and called out to him.

"Hey, you! Boy in green! You're probably new here so we'll forgive you, but you're on **our** beach, so move before we make you!"

The Killer Bees waited a few moments for the boy to respond. He didn't even acknowledge they were there, the cheeky idiot. Did he **want** to die?!

"Don't ignore us!" Ivan warned. "You don't wanna mess with us, pal, so move your butt!"

Once again his cries fell on deaf ears as the boy continued staring at the sky. Ivan started fuming, ready to stomp over and show him just who he was messing with, but Jun-Roberto grabbed his arm.

"Should we really mess with him, boss? He's bigger and older than us."

"And we outnumber him," Ivan reasoned back. "Besides, he's no match for us! C'mon, guys!"

He led the group closer, stomping angrily across the sand towards the boy. As he got closer he noticed more details about him. His hair was golden blond and too long to be that of a proper boy, and was sprawled out across the sand messily. His hat lay a few feet away from him, draped in seaweed and looking a little pale from the salt water washing the dye out. He was covered by sand over most of his body, and one arm was completely buried.

He was starting to feel bad about this.

"He looks about twelve." Jan pointed out, being the usual brains behind the group. "Do you think he's sleeping?"

"Well, we're gonna find out now."

Ivan got closer and kicked the boy hard in his side. The violent act pushed the boy across the sand slightly, but he didn't stir. Seriously, no one he knew was that much of a heavy sleeper! He bent down to the blond boy and poked his hand hard.

It was cold.

He felt shivers run down his spine despite the intense heat, and placed both palms on the boy's face, yanking it sharply to face him. His mouth was open slightly, betraying no movement of air within the lungs, and his lips were blue, but that wasn't what struck him.

His eyes were open and staring at him blindly. Each iris was a faded blue-green, fixed on something Ivan couldn't see, like he was looking right through him. He let go of his face and fell backwards onto the sand. His whole body froze in shock, and the sun suddenly felt like ice.

The boy was dead.

Ivan heard someone screaming, until he realised it was him.


End file.
